Look outside the window. Go on, do it. No, don’t read any further. Sit near your window first.
Now… look outside. Forget whatever is on your mind. Look at that tree over there – the huge tree that has been bent due to the constant wind every year. Such a graceful bow. The leaves almost touch the ground. Almost, but not quite. They wave as if to you, oscillating at a leisurely pace, like dancing to a symphony only they can hear. And that house opposite the road? The one that has always been empty, ever since you can remember. As a kid, you used to imagine there was a witch living in it, brewing potions for the destruction of this world. Today you know that years ago a family died there and ever since no body has cared to live there. But somehow, inside, you secretly believe that there is actually a witch; even though you will never admit it to anyone. Lean a little bit and look at the edge. That old car parked there that nobody knows the owner of, the one you always longed to play on (and in) but your parents were afraid you’d get tetanus since it was so rusted. It immediately reminds you of that feeling of wishful longing. Turn a little in your chair and look at that empty space you called a ‘park’. The grass always used to be green there. The place you loved chasing butterflies in. Now it just stands there as a garbage dump, unable to look dignified. Look up now. The sky. Blue, blue as a forget-me-not. Stretching out to an endless expanse. Territory where you can still get lost.
Look a little left. Yes, there. The road. Crowded with people hurrying about their business, vehicles going past in a frenzy. None of them see the humble tree, the haunted house, the old car, the poor park, the magnificent sky.
What a pity.